So Much Like Lightning
by daysandweeks
Summary: It's Lizzie's last day at Pemberley Digital and she owes Darcy a thank you. What she gets instead is something neither of them planned on. LBD universe. New title!
1. The Elevator

**2,466 words of Darcy/Lizzie smut. And I have at least one more chapter in mind if you enjoyed this one! Elevator sex ahead…**

.x.

_I can't believe it's over._

Lizzie's time at Pemberley Digital was up. With a sigh, she switched off her computer and gathered up the few personal items she had brought with her to the small office, putting them in her messenger bag. She had stayed until eight in the evening on this warm Friday in January to finish up her report. On Monday morning, Dr. Gardiner's friends would return from their trip and Lizzie would relinquish their house to head back home to her parents.

The office was mostly empty now. From what Lizzie could tell, there was only a janitor left, and he was busy emptying trashcans and shutting off lights. "Good night!" Lizzie called to him on her way out, and he wished her a good weekend, clearly not realizing that she would not be back on Monday.

She waited patiently by the elevator instead of taking the stairs, wanting to savor her last few minutes at Pemberley. She hadn't seen Darcy at all today. Strangely enough, he had become her favorite thing about Pemberley over the last few weeks, her motivation to come to work. Though the vast amenities the company had to offer, such as beautiful walkways and a swimming pool, were attractive, the thought of getting to see Darcy put a smile on her face every morning.

Despite their past differences, they'd been getting along so well since she had run into him on her first day at Pemberley. He had even taken her out for coffee when they were on a break during her first week, and he'd included her on a brother/sister dinner date before his sister, Gigi, went back to college. Lizzie was sure he'd only done it because she knew no one else in town. It would have been stupid for her to sit around every weekend by herself, and so he'd shown her a night out.

But now he wasn't even around for her to say goodbye to. _I guess I could shoot him an e-mail and thank him for having me here_, Lizzie thought to herself. But an e-mail seemed so impersonal, even rude, after how friendly they had been the past few weeks.

The elevator arrived at her floor and Lizzie stepped inside. She leaned against the back wall and relaxed, closing her eyes. Her shoulder was already sore from the messenger bag so she let it slide down onto the black and white diamond-patterned ground for the few seconds it took to arrive in the lobby.

The elevator ride was so smooth that she didn't notice that it went up first instead of down.

_Ding_. Lizzie opened her eyes and stood up straight. She prepared to reach down to the grab her bag, but was surprised to see Darcy standing in the entranceway of the elevator. He must have been shocked, too, because he stood in the doorway for a second, causing the elevator doors to begin to shut and then open again twice, before stepping inside and standing beside her.

"Lizzie," he said by way of greeting, and it was all so awkward and formal that Lizzie lost whatever shred of hope she had felt about them.

"Darcy," she responded in equal fashion, hoping to at least make him smirk at how ridiculous it all was. He didn't, though. Instead, he noted that she had already pressed the button for the lobby, and down they rode.

It wasn't until they were down towards the fifth floor that either of them so much as moved again, and it was Darcy who did, lunging forward and catching Lizzie completely off guard. He nearly flew towards the set of buttons on the wall by the door, pressing down on the emergency lever that stopped the elevator in its place. Lizzie jumped back against the wall in surprise, and Darcy immediately turned to face her.

"Lizzie, I have to say this before you leave." His face and voice were serious, his eyes focused on her. Lizzie felt her breath coming in short little gasps, her neck and face heating up. She couldn't meet his eyes, and yet she had to. "If your feelings are what they were at Halloween, stop me at once. But I have to tell you that I still… I still love you."

Her breath was uneven still as she rubbed at her collarbones. "Darcy, I…" She didn't know how to put it into words, how to explain how much he had affected her these past few weeks. How much he had always affected her. When she didn't reply after some time, he let out a sad, frustrated sigh and dropped his eyes to the floor, shoving one hand in the pocket of his black trousers and reaching the other towards the emergency switch. Before he could click it, Lizzie jumped forward and put her hand on his waist, looping it through his arm. "Will, don't – "

And she was kissing him, suddenly, before either of them even knew it.

They were both surprised for a moment, and after that initial touching of lips Darcy pulled away and looked down at her, though somehow her face was already in his hands, as if to make sure that this was what she had really intended to do. Lizzie looked up at him in some sort of shock, too, but then they closed their eyes and kissed once more.

She was shocked by how hard he kissed her, by how she was soon against that back wall of the elevator again, his lips on hers. The past few months of emotion poured out of him, and if she had felt nervous and pent up, she was aware now what it must have felt like to be him, to care for her for this long. He trapped her bottom lip between his own, sucking on it, biting it, moving his lips to her neck, to her earlobe, her collarbone. Her heart raced at his touch in a way she hadn't remembered it doing from something like a kiss since high school. He wrapped an arm around her, cradling the back of her head with one hand, the small of her back with the other, his thumb just barely grazing her ass. She moaned and ground against him, felt his erection against her belly…

_Am I going to fuck William Darcy in an elevator?_ She laughed at the thought, and he smiled when he felt her smiling against him, and her hands left his chest to explore his back though she didn't dare attempt to un-tuck his shirt and explore his back like she so wanted to…

Well, not until he gave in and cupped her ass, pulling her hard against him.

She did pull his shirt – red and black checkered, familiar – out of his pants then, touching that place just beneath his beltline for the briefest of moments before moving to his back, trying to take in as much of his skin, smooth and warm, as she could, as if she was attempting to remember what he felt like for the rest of her life based on this one moment. She was about to motion for him to unbutton the shirt or otherwise take it off completely when Darcy pulled away, still gripping her firmly by her bottom. He was panting almost as hard as she was. He looked at her for a moment, his eyes nearly black with desire, before letting go completely, though she still held him to her. "Oh God, Lizzie," he sputtered. "I hadn't… I didn't… I didn't really have this plan to… to _fuck_ you in the elevator," he said as plainly as possible, and she couldn't help but smile at how inarticulate he was for once. "I had this always envisioned, even though I didn't think it would happen… I hadn't planned for it to be like this, I wanted to make love to you, in bed."

"Well please," Lizzie assured him, "please don't stop." She kissed him then, attempting to be forceful, dragging his bottom lip between her teeth. He groaned against her and she thought for a second that she had won.

He pulled away again, though. This time, his voice was husky. "Oh, believe me. I don't plan on stopping," he said with an infuriating smirk that made her jokingly glare before kissing him on his neck. "Only we're going to have to," he said as calmly as possible, though she could feel his pulse fluttering, "since it's not like I exactly planned this, so I'm not…prepared."

"Oh, I am," she said, and she pulled away and bent over, remembering her messenger bag.

It was at this point that Lizzie felt lost in vague insecurity. She had two options here, though she wasn't sure Darcy would approve of either. She could turn around and say, _I've been on the pill since I was fifteen and started getting two-week long periods. I trust you implicitly if you say everything's go. No worries._ Or she could say, _When I was fifteen and stuck in bed with two-week long periods, I read in Seventeen magazine that a girl should carry a condom with her. So, uh. I do. Still. To this day. And it's not expired. I always make sure of that even though I've never had opportunity to just whip one out before._

After some brief hesitation, she settled for the second option, figuring it put her in the best light. "It's not like I often have use for this," she assured him, finding her wristlet with shaking hands, "but I just figure a girl should always be prepared."

She turned around and he kissed her immediately, pushing back some hair that had fallen into her face in the process. "You're perfect," he murmured in between kisses. "Amazing." She marveled that he could say things like this to her after all the cruel things she'd said on her vlogs.

She was too shy to take things into her own hands, so she handed him the condom and continued to kiss him – on his neck, his exposed collarbones now that he'd unbuttoned the shirt and his bow tie, his signature, had fallen to the elevator floor. She wanted to glance down at him, but didn't. It seemed like the polite thing to do when one was about to have sex with the man she had hated for so many months in an elevator at his very own place of business.

He soon leaned back up and caught her lips with his own, pushing her back against the wall and lifting up one of her legs as he did so so that she could wrap it around him. Her shoe fell off with a small bump against the floor, and she pushed against his fingers as he reached up her skirt and felt against her panties. She was glad she had chosen the silky white pair that she had to wear with this particularly tight skirt today. She expected to have to step back down to slip off her underwear, but instead he continued to stroke against her before sliding her underwear aside and surprising her by thrusting two fingers inside her. She gasped against his mouth, and when her lips returned to his he was smiling as he expertly moved his fingers in and out, using his other hand to pull her closer. She was so wet, and eager for him to fill her up completely.

He pulled his fingers out and leaned back to meet her gaze. He watched her, his lids heavy, as he entered her, slowly. She wanted to close her eyes, to lose herself completely to the feeling of him, but his stare was so intense. She held his gaze as he slid into her at a frustratingly slow rate, deliberately teasing her, it seemed. She bucked her hips towards him, desperate for more of him, and he pulled back just slightly. It wasn't cruel, the way he said it, but his voice was quiet as he told her, "This. This was how it felt. For me."

"Are you trying to torture me?" she groaned, though she wasn't quite sure she cared if he was.

"Oh God, no, Lizzie," he said, closing his eyes, and he suddenly thrust into her and she leaned back against the elevator wall, losing herself completely to the feeling of him, moving in and out of her. She kept time with him, squeezing him closer with her leg, until she completely lost any sense of what was going on. He felt her quickening, and increased his pace, and when she came, crying out his name, he was right there with her, lightly biting into her shoulder to muffle any cry of his own.

It took them a moment to collect themselves before they pulled away from one another, Lizzie clearing her throat while she put everything in order, her messed up hair not anything that could be fixed. When she glanced over, Darcy was smiling at her. She couldn't help but laugh.

In a minute or two, everything was as put back together as it could be and he leaned forward and flicked the switch on the elevator. It was now that the two couldn't hold back any longer – they completely burst out laughing, and Lizzie was rendered nearly speechless at how natural it seemed for him to laugh. She'd only seen him do so briefly once before, when she had been out with him and Gigi.

"Come home with me," he stated more than he asked, standing next to her and holding her hand as she hoisted her bag up onto her shoulder. "I'll cook us up some truly delicious frozen pizza." At the thought of Darcy heating up Digiorno, Lizzie couldn't help but grin.

"Are you making an honest woman of me, Darcy?" Lizzie quipped, squeezing his hand and feeling the butterflies.

"Something like that," he replied with a sideways smile.

The elevator arrived at the lobby and they stepped out. As they headed towards the parking lot, hand in hand, Darcy offered to hold Lizzie's heavy bag, and though she initially resisted, she figured she'd give in to his chivalry. The bag was, after all, pretty heavy. And she'd felt enough of his back to know that he likely had the proper muscles to support it.

When they reached the doors, they heard the "ding" of another elevator from the bank arriving in the lobby. Lizzie turned around to see the janitor from earlier exiting with his mop cart. He gave her a curious look and she couldn't help but let out a Lydia-esque giggle before ducking her head and exiting the building with Darcy, who merely shot her an amused glance as they headed out into the night.

.x.

**Whew! I haven't written smut in a while and I enjoyed writing that! I hope you liked it too! Please review. I have another chapter in mind that I'll be more than happy to write if everyone is interested!**


	2. No Family Crest

**Changed my story title based on a line in this chapter I particularly liked! Please review if you enjoyed this, or if ya didn't!**

.x.

She had imagined his apartment to be a rather ostentatious penthouse in the middle of the city, and it was but it wasn't. On the elevator ride to his penthouse suite, Lizzie couldn't help but think about what they'd done in the elevator at Pemberley less than an hour before, and a smirk crossed both their lips as she squeezed his hand.

It was crazy to think that she had, at one point, hated this man. The past few weeks had shown her another side to him completely. Whereas before she had seen him as only cruel and condescending, now she realized that Darcy was sweet and considerate, if a bit socially awkward. And apparently he knew a thing or two about sex. Or at least elevator sex.

When they reached his apartment, Lizzie was amazed that they could simply punch a code into a keypad and step out of the elevator and into a real live home. Darcy led her through the small, elegantly decorated parlor and then into the spare hall with its parquet flooring before they entered the very sleek and modern kitchen, where he sat her at a kitchen barstool before opening up the freezer and pulling out a box of pizza. "I'm actually," he assured her while preheating the oven, "a half decent cook, and as much as I'd love to impress you with my culinary prowess, I think that I'll stick with the basics today."

"If by the basics you mean setting the oven to 350 and then waiting for a few minutes," Lizzie quipped. Darcy was rummaging about in the refrigerator now, and he turned around briefly to give her a challenging look in reply. "If pizza isn't to your taste, Miss Bennet, we can always go out."

For some reason, the idea of leaving the apartment did not appeal to Lizzie. Though his use of her last name, sounding nothing like Ricky Collins's use of it, made her giggle while sending a shiver up her spine at the same time.

He sat down beside her at the island counter, sliding a wine glass before both of them before motioning to her with the bottle. She nodded and he poured out two glasses of white wine. "I'm fairly certain you're supposed to have red with pizza," he explained, "but Gigi was just here, and occasionally I'll allow her to have a glass of wine with dinner. She detests reds."

Lizzie raised an eyebrow at the way Darcy acted as if giving his barely underage sister a glass of wine with dinner was a scandal. He definitely knew her sister Lydia had done way worse during her underage years. Before taking a sip, Lizzie raised her glass. "To new beginnings and first impressions," she said, and Darcy met her eye with as straight a face as possible before they each clinked glasses and took a long, smooth sip.

It was an amiable dinner, with lots of conversation. They kept sitting at the bar, talking and drinking wine, long after they'd finished, discussing everything from their childhoods to literature to current events. Lizzie was surprised by how little she actually knew about Darcy, like if he'd ever owned a pet and what his favorite sports were and how he'd come to inherit Pemberley. She didn't want to push about the death of his parents just now, though, and so they stuck to talk about baseball in the meantime.

Eventually, conversation ran slightly dry, or perhaps the bottle did. They moved to the living room with Darcy's big screen TV and started flipping through Netflix, trying to find something to watch. Lizzie wondered if this slight move into awkwardness was supposed to be her cue to leave. _I have to water the fern_, she thought of saying. That was really her only duty at the house she was staying at.

"You know," Darcy said, focusing on the television rather than on her, "I really didn't think this would ever happen. Even when I couldn't give up on you, I felt like a fool for it. I felt stupid. I had these fantasies of bringing you back here, but I always thought it was just that, a fantasy." He leaned back against the couch now and gazed at her almost dreamily. "And I even feel like that now, like it's too good to be true."

His words pained her. She'd harbored one-sided crushes before, but never anything as intense as his feelings, at least not unrequited. She couldn't tell him she loved him just yet. It was too soon for her. She _thought_ she might, but there was a difference between thinking one was in love and knowing one was. "I'm here," she assured him instead, placing a hand on his to prove that she wasn't just some apparition from his imagination. "I'm real." She paused, bit her lip. "And, ah, I like you too. Like, a lot."

She was worried that he'd be upset that her feelings weren't quite as intense, but he didn't seem to be. In fact, Darcy seemed rather pleased to hear this bit of news, and he leaned in to kiss her for the first time since they'd left the elevator.

Lizzie pulled back from the kiss first and smiled at Darcy. This whole evening was turning out to be perfect in ways she'd never imagined. She'd never thought it possible that she would be here, with him, like this. Maybe once or twice she'd fantasized about it, but now for it all to come to fruition? After all of these months of hatred and frustration? Well, it would be nice, if not perfect, to spend a night in Darcy's apartment watching movies on Netflix and chatting.

Apparently, though, that was now what Darcy wanted at all. And Lizzie was not about to complain.

He leaned in to kiss her again, passionately this time, and she knew immediately that again this would be a point of no return. Was there any use prolonging it? The moment he kissed her again she felt just how much she needed him and so much like lightning, desire shot through her, hot and urgent. She kissed him back passionately, sucking his tongue into her mouth, sitting astride him and grinding against him, feeling his erection pressing through his pants and against her panties, already damp from their earlier escapades and her growing excitement.

He pulled away for a moment, marveling at the sight of her bandage skirt, an office-appropriate length, now ridden up high and tight against her thighs. He massaged them while kissing her again, teeth clashing at first, but there wasn't even time to laugh about this. Apparently the elevator had not been enough to release months of pent up passion.

She thought that everything might happen there and then, on the soft suede couch, Darcy's Netflix cue casting them in a soft white glow. And he thought the same, too, but realized what was happening and pulled apart from their kiss, still languidly stroking Lizzie's thighs. "Come to bed with me," he whispered. "Let me show you how I really imagined it, all these months."

_All these months._ His words sent another jolt through her, and at once she felt she might melt then and there if she didn't join him in the bedroom, yet on the other hand she felt so guilty about not caring for him until now, so strange about how quickly (slowly, for him) this was all happening. "Okay," she managed to croak out before he helped her up and took her hand with an enticingly boyish smile.

The walk to the bedroom felt so slow. They passed through another hall and then there they were. It was a simple affair – a dresser, a rug, a nightstand, a bookshelf, a closet, a large window with amazing nighttime scenery, though he moved to shut the drapes, letting go of her hand to cross the room. And then, in the center of the room: the bed.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Darcy quipped, messing around with the lamp by his bedside so that the lighting was dimmed, "but I don't have the family crest above my bed. I'm not sure if we even have one, come to think of it," he said with a musing expression that sent Lizzie's heart aflutter. How could he be so damn cute? How had she never noticed it before? "And it doesn't say 'Vanity & Pride' either."

Lizzie threw a hand over her mouth and then rubbed her forehead, unable to look Darcy in the eye. "Oh, God, did I say that?" She raised her eyes to his after a beat. He was smirking. "I did, didn't I?"

He shook his head apologetically and crossed the room, taking her into his arms and locking his fingers against the small of her back. "You didn't say anything I didn't deserve, I assure you." He kissed her chastely before gazing into her eyes. "I've tried to much harder since I saw those videos. It made me a better person."

And he'd made her a better person too, hadn't he? Perhaps it had been her struggle with Lydia that really made her realize how judgmental she really was, but Lizzie had learned that there was more than there seemed, always. She had learned that even if a person held all the appearances of charm, they might not really be a great person. She had learned that Darcy, deep down and not so deep down, was a good man.

_And a fucking great kisser_, she added with a little nod and smile to herself. Darcy noticed her grin. "Why are you smiling?" he asked gently.

"I'm just…_happy_," Lizzie admitted, and then she kissed him, eager to find out exactly what he had had in mind all these months.

While kissing, he maneuvered them to the queen-sized bed so that they sat perched on the end. It wasn't long before he had Lizzie lying down on her back, though, and she admired how soft the comforter felt against her back. He removed her shoes, and she remembered the way one had fallen onto the floor in the elevator earlier and shivered at the realization that this was just a continuation of that moment, a sensual release after such a passionate encounter. Next, he slowly lifted her hips off the bed to remove her skirt, and she enjoyed how long he took to pull it off, how he caressed her legs the entire way down.

It was her shirt next, a simple button-down affair. She sat up next to remove it but he shook his head. "No," he said, "let me." But this time, the reverent nature of his task was lost on her. She was anxious to feel his skin on hers like she hadn't been able to in the elevator, and she interrupted his slow task of unbuttoning her blouse to yank off his bow tie and move to his own buttons. Darcy moved his hand to stop hers, holding it against his chest. "Eager now, are we?" he asked her in a slightly mocking tone.

Lizzie realized that she was blushing, and glared at him. "Fine, but at least take your shirt off, too. I'm not sitting here in a state of undress alone."

Darcy smirked and dropped her hand to oblige, pulling off his own, and the undershirt, before finishing with her buttons. This time his pace was quicker, but Lizzie barely noticed. She reached out her hands to smooth over his arms. Darcy wasn't exactly a George Wickham when it came to physique, but that didn't mean he wasn't something to admire. A sudden silly desire to lean forward and lap at his abdominal region overtook her, but she held back and simply lay back down once her top was removed.

She was self-conscious about what came next. Not the removal of the underwear, necessarily, since that was going to have to happen. But Lizzie was small-chested and she'd been teased about it many times growing up, and she was really hoping he wasn't going to take off her bra just yet. She was too busy staring at the ceiling and worrying about this to notice that Darcy had removed the white silk panties and was now looming over her. She let out a sharp cry of surprise when she felt his finger sink into her, and then a moan of pleasure as the feeling overtook her. He sank another finger inside, using the pad of his thumb to gently stimulate her clit as he did so. Her head thrust back against the bed as he increased his pressure and dove his fingers in deeper, lightly motioning in just the right away against her front wall. She felt like she was close, so close, and so she let out a groan of frustration when he felt it too and pulled his fingers away.

He sat up then and she leaned up on her elbows, certain that he was up to some cruel game. _Is that what this is? I was a bitch for a few months, and somewhat rightfully so, so now he's going to play the orgasm denial game?_ He saw the hurt look on her face and crawled over to kiss her on her lips. Immediately she relaxed and pulled him to her so that she could feel the glorious feeling of his skin on her own. She even quickly pushed him back to yank off her bra and throw it aside and then pulled him back, relishing in the feeling of having him pressed so close, but he pulled back, causing her to yell out another cry of frustration. "Please!"

He smiled and kissed her lips, groaning against her as he took her bottom lip between his teeth. "Trust me, Lizzie," he murmured to her. "As much as I want to fulfill your every desire, there's something else I want to do first."

He moved down to kiss her neck, then her collarbone, sucking on it and lavishing it with his tongue. Next were her breasts, and he admired both at once, licking one nipple before taking it into his mouth while simultaneously kneading her other breast, and then switching. He removed his hand but kept his mouth on her, nipping her lightly so that she cried out before admiring the swell where her breasts ended, using his hand to stroke her thighs and another to clutch her bottom. When he reached her belly, he surprised her again by sinking his fingers deep inside her, and she was lost in the sensation of it all. "God, you're so wet," he whispered against her skin as he kissed his way across her hips, saving a soft bite for her left hipbone.

She knew what was coming next, but gasped all the same when he removed his fingers and used his tongue on her, lapping at her while stimulating her with this thumb. The sensation was so perfect, so heavenly, and while she didn't want him ever to stop, it also filled her with an incredible, desperate longing to have him inside her, all of him. It wasn't long before she brought him to the edge, and she did not hear the noises she made when she came, her back arching up, her hips rising to meet him.

He trailed urgent kisses up her skin while the aftershocks took her, but she pushed him up and urgently removed his belt, his pants, then lay back down, knowing that now he would not toy with her. He was certain to want this even more than she did now, and so she pulled him down to her by his shoulders, wrapped her legs around his, cupped her hands to his ass, pulled him inside her desperately. He let out a soft gasp as if this was the first time, as if they had not passionately fucked in the elevator just a few hours ago, and now he was moving inside her, all slow sensual rhythm that she matched beat for beat, lifting her hips to his. She was lost in the feel of him, of his skin, of him inside her.

She realized, then, that they'd forgotten the condom, and he must have too. His eyes were shut, and she heard him say, "I'm gonna come" before he wrapped a hand around himself and moved to pull out, but she stopped him, a hand on his shoulder, realizing just how much she wanted to feel him finish inside her.

"It's fine," she whispered, breathless. "I'm… I'm fine, and I'm on the pill. I trust you."

"Are you sure?" he checked, and she nodded and he said, "You'd better be, because God I can't hold back much longer." And with a few more thrusts he came undone, and at the sensation of him throbbing inside her she did as well, and they lay there, spent, for some time.

.x.

**Hah! Had to let Lizzie make a "poor sexual decision" in the name of almost love and horniness. Just thought it would be interesting to see her lose her head, knowing she's not always pleased by others' bad or rash decisions. (Though it won't be a bad decision in the long run, don't worry. No STDs. Or babies – in this story, that is.)**

**Anyway! Please review! I love reviews! And guess what? I could totally write more smutty chapters about Lizzie and Darcy being romantic and getting it on all weekend if ya want. If you're down to read more, let me know!**


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